"Are you interested in returning to be the Regent of the Imperial Shadow?"
Sanguinius smiled brightly at Perturabo.
Perturabo was bewildered by Sanguinius' sudden, out-of-the-blue question, momentarily leaving even his naturally knowledgeable mind at a loss.
"Are you joking?" Perturabo roared, demanding an answer.
Sanguinius looked at Perturabo with an almost pitying gaze and softly said, "You have not gained more from Chaos than you did from our Father."
"Saint Doraemon is a generous being. He is willing to pay for what you desire—"
"You don't understand what I want! You can't give me what I want!" Perturabo manipulated his Iron Halo robots to surround Sanguinius.
Sanguinius' expression remained calm, and the Spear of Accomplishment in his hand transformed into a storm of crimson-gold, sending iron scraps flying as it cut through the steel frames of the Iron Halo robots as easily as slicing butter.
"Of course, I know what you want."
"Tell me, how many Calliphanae have you created in these ten thousand years?"
Calliphanae was Perturabo's sister, one of the few people Perturabo loved.
But Calliphanae pointed out that Perturabo was pretending to despise love, pretending to be indifferent to the care of others, but he actually craved to be loved more than anything.
She said that Perturabo always deliberately chose the most difficult and painful ways to do things. Perturabo actually yearned for respect because of it. He acted like a martyr, shouting, "Look, the great Perturabo is toiling tirelessly without complaint."
However, Perturabo's behavior was essentially that of a twisted child. He never grew up. He always deceived himself. He clearly longed for others' recognition but pretended not to care. He pretended to be as strong as steel but was actually as weak as a reed.
He, Perturabo, was the most foolish fool she had ever seen.
And so, an enraged Perturabo personally strangled his adopted sister, Calliphanae. But after that, Perturabo himself regretted it.
Perhaps it was because after killing Calliphanae, Perturabo suddenly realized that he had personally killed the only person in the galaxy who truly cared about him.
During these ten thousand years, Perturabo had been trying to create replicas of his adopted sister, attempting to resurrect her in this way, trying to atone for his mistake in this manner.
"I have never created a Calliphanae!"
Perturabo was angrier than ever. He roared, he growled, charging out from among the Iron Halo robots.
His steel body, like an iron wall, rumbled. Toxic steam, corroding everything around it, roared out. A heavy hammer, larger than a Dreadnought's head and torso, swung towards Sanguinius.
But Sanguinius merely dodged gracefully, leaving Perturabo's hammer to strike empty air.
"I have never created a Calliphanae! Never succeeded!"
"Those were just defective products! Failures! Not the real Calliphanae!"
Perturabo roared at Sanguinius while swinging his heavy hammer.
Ten thousand years, even Perturabo had forgotten how many replicas of Calliphanae he had created.
But he remembered the fate of every replica, just like the real Calliphanae: after Perturabo's uncontrollable rage, their necks were strangled by Perturabo.
Ten thousand years, every time, every replica, met the same end.
"Because they are not the real Calliphanae!"
"They are just failed, inferior products! Calliphanae didn't treat me like that! Inferior products should be destroyed!"
"We can give you the real Calliphanae," Sanguinius said softly.
The air fell silent in an instant.
Perturabo stopped swinging his warhammer, and the surrounding Iron Halo robots froze in place, staring intently at Sanguinius.
Everything on the battlefield seemed to have come to a halt.
"You're lying to me!" Perturabo growled.
He almost instinctively and without thought, forcefully concluded that Sanguinius was lying to him.
"It is not I who is lying to you, Perturabo," Sanguinius' voice was very soft. "It is you who are afraid."
"You are too clever. Deep down, you already understand that even if you were to see the real Calliphanae again, you would only repeat the same mistakes."
"Lies! Naked lies!!!"
"You are still deceiving yourself. You are one of the smartest among our brothers; you can discern truth from lies, but you yourself often cannot accept it."
Sanguinius said gently:
"A hundred times, Saint Doraemon has resurrected and brought Calliphanae to you in different ways, at different times."
"And a hundred times, you killed the real Calliphanae, twisted her neck, and then in turn accused Saint Doraemon of giving you a fake Calliphanae."
"But in truth, you knew full well that Saint Doraemon had no reason to deceive you; it was only you deceiving yourself. You couldn't accept that you would inevitably repeat the same mistakes."
"Full of lies! Shameless!!!" Perturabo furiously swung his heavy hammer at Sanguinius again.
"That's just how you are, Perturabo." Sanguinius shook his head slightly. "You always deceive yourself. You clearly had a childhood far better than most of your brothers. You clearly had a group of loving children, but you personally destroyed them."
"You always boast about the suffering you bear, claiming to have done many painful things without complaint, and claiming that you and your children made immense sacrifices."
"But most of the suffering, pain, and sacrifices you endured were deliberately created by yourself, and that pain was meaningless, because you clearly had a way to choose a better outcome, yet you insisted on pretending to be a martyr, pushing yourself and those around you towards pain."
"Perturabo, even if your adoptive parents were King Konor and Lady Udon, or Dorn's grandfather, or even Leman Russ' wolf mother, you would still personally strangle them."
"You, Sanguinius, full of lies, I will kill you now!!!"
Perturabo charged at Sanguinius almost uncontrollably, like a wall of steel.
Sanguinius, however, merely looked at him with a gaze of pity, as if watching a petulant child throwing an unwarranted tantrum.
Deafening singing rushed into his ears, the intense noise even causing Vashtorr's body to stiffen.
Even Vashtorr's true self, hidden deep within the Soul Forge, felt a tremor, causing momentary spasms in all of Vashtorr's avatars across various timelines.
It wasn't that the sound waves penetrated the veil between the Warp and reality to harm Vashtorr's true self; it was simply that the singing was so dreadful, so awful that Vashtorr's mind experienced a momentary confusion, even inexplicably generating an urge for self-destruction, wanting to escape the terrible singing through death.
What terrifying singing!
Vashtorr's true self, that wisp of thought-fog drifting deep within the Soul Forge, sparked a few times. He tried to inject more will into the body that was stunned by Greater Daemon's singing, to regain control over it—
"Bang!!!!"
A gunshot, like the cry of a crow, suddenly rang out. A steel needle, a masterwork of gunnery, pierced through the air and directly embedded itself into the forehead of Vashtorr's body.
Then the bullet instantly exploded, releasing ancient nanobots that gnawed at the moisture within Vashtorr's body.
The accompanying splinters of Blackstone and untouchable ashes collectively cut off the influence of the Warp.
Finally, the ashes of the Astronomican directly caused the Warp energy that formed Vashtorr's body to go out of control.
Under the effect of this steel needle, Vashtorr's body directly dissolved into a mass of raw Warp energy and dissipated into the Webway.
"..*Soul Forge expletive*" Vashtorr, still holding the controller for that body, watched his own demise and couldn't help but curse.
The experience was terrible! It was utterly awful!
He had originally prepared a large number of daemon Engines and war machines on Corinal, ready to activate those terrifying meat grinders with a mere thought.
But unexpectedly, Saint Doraemon used an Earth Destruction Bomb to lure him out of Corinal, and somehow knew in advance where Vashtorr would throw the Earth Destruction Bomb, using Greater Daemon's sudden attack to push him into the Webway.
Even so, Vashtorr still had many daemons under contract that he could use, and he remained unafraid.
However, Reyna, the Emperor's chosen, and Titus, the Midnight's chosen, two beings with extraordinary prophetic abilities, seized the moment before Vashtorr could react to block his actions.
Before Vashtorr could break free and unleash those contracted daemons, Greater Daemon's singing had already arrived.
Saint Doraemon seemed to have seen through the fact that Vashtorr's form in the material universe was merely a puppet remotely controlled by his true self, and directly attacked Vashtorr's true self, hiding deep within the Soul Forge, with that sharp, piercing singing, causing him to temporarily lose control of that body.
Subsequently, Sarojin's sniper shot was fatal. Throughout the entire process, Vashtorr didn't even make a single move; he was utterly outmaneuvered.
What a formidable competitor. The "Reality Engine" itself also has problems; the delay is still a bit too great and needs improvement.
While pondering, Vashtorr activated another shell in the Soul Forge and deployed it towards the Vengeful Spirit.
As for Corinal, how could Saint Doraemon, who calculated Vashtorr so thoroughly, not have calculated everyone else?
The Red Angel is probably beyond saving. Perturabo should be able to retreat safely. As for... Abaddon...
Vashtorr had long anticipated that such a day might come and had made preparations in advance.
He had left a teleportation beacon in Abaddon's power armor, which could use the Tuqiaocha Engine to transport him to Vashtorr's side when Abaddon was in danger.
Hopefully, Abaddon can hold out until Vashtorr re-enters the material universe. If not, it doesn't matter; Vashtorr has a contingency plan for that.